Tag: brendan

How popular is the baby name Brendan in the United States right now? How popular was it historically? Find out using the graph below! Plus, see baby names similar to Brendan and check out all the blog posts that mention the name Brendan.

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Posts that Mention the Name Brendan

What if you like the sound of these names, but want something a little less common?

Here are a dozen legit Irish names that are barely being used right now — and all of them have that popular two-syllable, ends-with-N structure that American parents tend to like for boy names (think Mason, Ethan, Jackson, Logan, Owen, Jayden, Dylan, Justin…and countless others).

Which of these would you be most likely to use for your own baby boy?

Cammán
Historical example: Cammán mac Amlaíb, 10th-century viking.
Current usage: Has never been in the data.

A couple of weeks ago, reader Becca sent me a link to a Washington Post graphic showing the 10 most common names of registered voters within each of Washington D.C.’s four main political parties — Statehood Green, Democratic, Republican and Libertarian.

The graphic didn’t mention the disparity between the sizes of these groups, though, so let’s throw that in too. The lists were based on data from mid-June, 2015, so here are the D.C. voter registration statistics from June 30th:

The top Libertarian names are 70% male and 30% female, and most saw peak usage during the last few decades of the 20th century, especially the ’90s.

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It was interesting to see just how feminine and old-fashioned the top Democrat names are. But the thing that most surprised was that the Green party’s list included zero female names. I would have guessed that, if any list here was going to be 100% male, it’d be the Libertarian party — definitely not the Green party.

Today’s name interview is with Barry Brake, a 46-year-old from San Antonio, Texas.

What’s the story behind his name?

They were going to name me Brandon (or was it Brendan?) — one of the really trendy names of the late 60s. But a few months into it, a kid down the street was born and they named *him* Brendan, so my parents didn’t want 2 on the same block.

It appeared to everyone that the name Barry came out of the blue. It’s not a family name or anything. But when I was an adult my mom told me something she’d never told me or anyone before, except my dad: that she thought I’d be a performer with my name in lights, and she really liked the stagey sound of “Barry Brake.” Indeed I ended up with musical talent and a showoff personality, and became a performer (though my name isn’t in lights!) I have to say my name works quite well and is a memorable name for a performer to have. Nice premonition!

(He’s right about the ’60s: the baby name Barry was most popular back in 1962.)

What does he like most about his name?

It’s catchy and memorable, and easy to spell for bank tellers and other people behind desks. I can’t imagine how many thousands of hours of my life would have been wasted in spelling out Kryzstoffre or something. Whew! And Barry works well with my last name, too, which I think matters a lot.

What does he like least about his name?

As a kid it’s pretty easy to make fun of. It rhymes with stuff, so you get everything from the relatively irritating “Barry Cherry” to the slightly more irritating “Barry Fairy.” Also, there were several years there when people could not help but mention Barry Manilow when they met me.

Added to that is that my last name is rather unusual, leading to my now rule that a kid should only have one unusual name, so if your last name is Sauvage you should stick to naming your kids Mike and Ann, and if your last name is Smith you can name them Thaddeus and Guinevere, but you don’t want a super-plain-jane name or a plaid-on-stripes name.

That said, mine wasn’t *too* plaid-on-stripes, and all the current research shows that people with unusual names who get made fun of as kids generally grow as a result of it. So I’m glad I had a mildly character-building name, though I can’t tell you how thankful I am that my name wasn’t Schenectady Picklebottom.

Later on in life, you get rid of the schoolyard games and move on to other concerns. Mine is that Barry seems to always be the name of the fiancé in the *beginning* of the movie: the bland guy who’s “nice” but all wrong for the girl, and who gets summarily dumped. Either that or the loser boyfriend who … also gets summarily dumped. What is it with screenwriters and the name Barry?

Finally, would Barry recommend that his name be given to babies today?

Sure. If we’d had a son, Barry was at least a consideration, probably for a middle name. It’s sturdy and solid, and not trendy. But on the other hand it *is* more a Gen-X name than you’d probably get today: with Jennifer and Amy and Scott, it just seems to belong to people my age and not to the Noahs and Calebs our kids’ age. My prediction is that for at least a couple of generations, the Barrys around you will be named for someone in the family.

If your due date is December 21, why not commemorate the date with an end of the world-inspired baby name?

No, I’m not suggesting you go with something ridiculous like Armageddon or Apocalypse. (Though I have seen both used as names. Examples: Rev. Armageddon James Margerum, born in England in 1833, and Ulysses Apocalypse Johnson, born in California in 1992.)

Instead, try a name with a less obvious EotW connection. Perhaps one of these:

Maya – the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar is most commonly associated with the Maya

Jeremiah – ending sounds like Maya

Nehemiah – ending sounds like Maya

Deedee – short for doomsday

Ann – short for annihilation

Catherine – inspired by cataclysm

Arma – short for armageddon

Armand – inspired by armageddon

Armando – inspired by armageddon

Gideon – inspired by armageddon

Don – inspired by armageddon

Or try one of the dozens of names that happen to contain the word end (short for end of the world, of course).

In 1705, English astronomer Edmond Halley theorized that three historic comets (which had appeared in 1531, 1607, and 1682) were actually a single periodic comet that would return again in 1758.

He was correct–the comet returned in 1758, just as Halley had predicted. So it was named Comet Halley in his honor in 1759.

Since then, Halley’s Comet has flown through the inner Milky Way three times: in 1835, 1910 and 1986. How did these appearances affect the usage of the baby name Halley? Let’s take a look…

Halley’s Comet in 1835

It seems that people were well aware of the comet in 1835. Its appearance was even commemorated with a new type of jewelry — the comet brooch, which had a distinct head and a tail, just like the comet. Here’s an example:

But the SSA didn’t start collecting baby name data until 1880, and I haven’t had much luck with the census and other historical data, so I don’t know how many babies (if any) were named after Halley’s Comet this year.

Halley’s Comet in 1910

Halley appeared on the SSA’s baby name list for the very first time, both for boys and for girls, in 1910. In fact, it was the top debut name for boys.

1913: 5 baby boys named Halley, unlisted for baby girls

1912: 6 baby boys named Halley, unlisted for baby girls

1911: 5 baby boys named Halley, unlisted for baby girls

1910: 11 baby girls and 12 baby boys named Halley [debut x2]

1909: unlisted for both genders

1908: unlisted for both genders

But the SSA data didn’t start reflecting real numbers until the ’30s. So I checked the SSDI, which indicated that the total number of babies with the first name Halley were actually much higher:

1913: 6 babies named Halley

1912: 15 babies named Halley

1911: 8 babies named Halley

1910: 119 babies named Halley

1909: 14 people named Halley born

1908: 3 people named Halley born

Some of the Halleys named specifically for the comet include:

Halley Reed Palmer, boy, born on May 10, 1910, to Mr. and Mrs. John Palmer of Milton, Oregon.

Halley Comett Johnston, boy, born on April 13, 1910, to Jessie Johnston and Addie Webb of North Carolina.

Parents also used different spellings and placements of Halley. Here’s what happened to the first name Hallie in 1910, for instance, according to the SSDI:

Speaking of Comet…the SSDI tells me at least 10 people were named Comet in 1910, and that one of these 10 happened to have the surname Halley. Also born in 1910: a Comette, a Cometniss, a Cometa, and two Comettas.

Halley’s Comet in 1986

Halley was given another big boost by the comet in 1986:

1989: 56 baby girls named Halley, unlisted for baby boys

1988: 71 baby girls named Halley, unlisted for baby boys

1987: 69 baby girls named Halley, unlisted for baby boys

1986: 332 baby girls and 21 baby boys named Halley

1985: 147 baby girls and 10 baby boys named Halley

1984: 25 baby girls named Halley, unlisted for baby boys

The surge in usage bumped Halley into the girls’ top 1,000 for the first (and only) time in 1986:

1987: Halley ranked 1,737th

1986: Halley ranked 581st

1985: Halley ranked 1,025th

The only Halley-baby I noticed in the newspapers this year was from Canada: Halley Marie Mullen, a baby girl born to Susan and Brendan Mullen of Ottawa on 4 January 1986.

And, again, there were plenty of alternative spellings. Here’s what happened to Hallie in 1986: